


A Mountain of Sin

by Blue Rose (Grovehove)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 30 Seconds to Mars Song lyrics, Angst with an open ending. But this author doesn't do unhappy endings, Emotional Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, May possibly be a sequel., Suffering for their happiness., Thor judges so suck it up humans., Winteriron Holiday Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:05:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grovehove/pseuds/Blue%20Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has nightmares. No shit Sherlock. Most people can guess at the content. Flying and dying in Space. Having his heart ripped out of his chest in a cave in Afghanistan.<br/>But the worst one, the nightmare that destroyed him for days afterwards, was the first one that repeated itself exactly every time he suffered through it, the one that sent him spiralling into alcohol and its sweet oblivion when he was no more than a teenager.<br/>The unknown menacing masked man with the silver arm who stalked inexorably towards him through the mists of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. From Yesterday

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift in the Winteriron holiday Exchange. I do hope you like it. I used your likes and dislikes in the story. The 30 Seconds to Mars song lyrics "From Yesterday" because the band were on your list of likes. The story definitely makes these characters work for their happiness and hopefully meets your hurt/comfort and strong character likes. There is some sexy stuff but it is needed for the plot and I have definitely included that Killer strut. The ending is open for all sorts of possibilities because I don't do unhappy endings. I may even write a sequel to this in the not too distant future.  
> Chapter 1 was beta'd by the wonderful Valmasy (Trickeyarchangel) but because of problems in RL, I didn't have a chance to send off my second chapter and then went ahead and changed the first one also. All kudos for the efforts at reducing my mistakes and improving my writing.  
> Merry Christmas and a happy new year. x

_From Yesterday, it’s coming_

_From Yesterday, the Fear_

_From Yesterday, it calls him_

_Everything seemed to have faded into the background, the surroundings were colourless, a wavering monochrome landscape. Except for red. There was always red, in his eyes, on his hands, on the ground and in his damn ledger._

The dream was silent as always. He knew he was dreaming. Because there was never any sound when he was dreaming. There logically, he was dreaming. Logic, it always came when he built it. And he was all for logic; big fan of logic, huge, huge fan of logic. He worshiped at its alter, wanted its babies. No, wait. _Had_ its babies. He’d been there, done that and gotten the AI to prove it. Logic was his religion, his _raison d’etre_ , his damn _Field of Dreams_. Because logic was logical, it was always right unless it wasn’t and that could be proved logically, and best of all it didn’t try to screw him over with useless emotions, beaming smiles, fake self-serving relationships and always the expectations. He often thought that damn word expectations should be in capital letters because expectations had dominated, damaged and defined his damn life.   
Logic, bless it’s logical soul, never had expectations for him, was never disappointed in him, had never blamed him for a drop in the Dow Jones Index.  
So logically there had to be sound, there had to be noise because there was evidence of explosions and gun shots, bystanders shouting and burning vehicles. Even fire wasn’t silent, but in this place, in this time, in this dream it was all silent.  
  
Therefore to his logical mind, based on numerous previous evidence and experience, vision without sound equated to a dream. Only dream wasn’t the correct word for this kaleidoscope of destruction and fear. Dream made it sound pleasant, like something to look forward to at the end of a long tiring day. No, this dream was nothing like that.  
   
After all the shit he had been through, all the life threatening reckless even suicidal crap he had dealt with, up to and including seeing the terrible dark beauty of space in person with an arc reactor in his chest before his oxygen ran out and his Ironman Suit almost became his eternal floating coffin orbiting the Earth, he had enough material for two lifetimes worth of nightmares.  
  
This one, this dream, this night terror was the precursor of them all. The one he had hit adulthood with, the one that made him want to tear his eyes out of his head and when he was younger had left him waking up in a wide selection of his own bodily fluids.

The dream always started the same way. He was trapped, physically unable to move, a horrified witness unable to stop the same sequence of events. Unable to wake until it all played out in front of him to the bitter putrid soul wrenching end.

_There was no sound. Why couldn’t he hear anything? He opened his eyes and his vision was blurred. Something red was blocking it. He tried to raise his hands but for some reason he was stuck, and it hurt when he tried to move. So he turned his face and rubbed it against his shoulder, the muscles in his neck protesting violently but he had to see, to know what was happening. He cleared away the gunky red fluid with the smell of copper. He knew it was blood but he wasn’t sure if it was his own or from someone else._

_He ached all over. Hurt worse than falling repeatedly from that damn horse his Mama had made him learn to ride. Mama. No not thinking of Mama, not yet not until he knew what was going on. He had to see, had to have evidence to back a conclusion. That was the way of Science young Jedi._  
Don’t think of Mama. Still no sound, why no sound? He saw the explosions, the vehicles rolling and burning, he saw people fall as if hit by something. That scornful voice in his head that sounded so much like his father was talking to him now. He could hear the voice alright even if he couldn’t hear anything else  
“Stupid Tony always so stupid. Gun shots. The noise is gun shots. Those people were hit by bullets. You are the son of a weapons manufacturer. Stop being the idiot child Howard calls you. You know what’s happening, what’s happened already to Mama.”   
But Tony won’t have that. No not thinking of Mama. No.

_He wondered if the liquid that had covered his eyes had damaged them. Everything seemed to have faded into the background, the surroundings were colourless, a wavering monochrome landscape blurring white, grey and black. Except for red. There was always red. A part of him knew he had been through this before, knew that he couldn’t change it, knew the red was always there._

_Red pooled on the ground, smeared car windows, dropped from a limp hand. It glinted viciously in a faded star shape on metallic scales, rippling across the silver as if anchoring the scales into place. The red was vibrantly alive in the monochrome madness, but even that faded into grey when the only focus, the only thing that mattered was the terrifying predator stalking with single minded determination towards him._

_Tall and muscular as a superhero from one of Tony’s comics, black armour clung to his body like a second skin, emphasising the inherent strength. Black face mask half hidden by the long black hair, following the haunting contours of his face fixed below black rimmed piercing silver eyes, only focused on one thing. Ignoring the chaos surrounding him._  
Chaos that he had caused without as much as a blink of an eye. He strutted his way towards his mission. He didn’t even bother to run.   
  
There was nowhere Tony could go. The terrifying murderer, assassin, lunatic just kept right on coming. His hips swayed as if in time to some graceful martial music that would only reach its crescendo when his mission was completed.   
Strands of his long hair floating around his face synchronised with that arrogant predatory strut. Why wouldn’t he strut? Who could stop him?  
  
His arms swung loosely beside him, the silver metal hand empty but the flesh hand holding on to the semi-automatic weapon as if it was an extension of himself. The same weapon he had used to casually destroy so many lives in the worst minutes of Tony’s life. It felt like it should have taken an eternity but Tony had glanced at his watch. Ten minutes, ten minutes for this monster to create havoc and murder so many people on a bright fall morning on a highway.

_Tony couldn’t move. He was stuck in place in the front of the Rolls besides Mr Pat, their driver. Mr Pat had been their main driver and part of the Stark security team for nearly ten years. Nice guy, divorced with two kids he never saw enough of, always a wink and a smile for Tony because he actually seemed to like him even when Tony was being a pain in the ass._  
Mr Pat just grinned at him and passed him some candy as if he was still the same little kid he had met all those years before, not the obnoxious teenage genius heir to Stark Industries who made it his business to torment the staff who even dared to look at him the wrong way. Tony had enough frowns from his Da… from Howard, he wasn’t just going to passively allow anyone else to do it to him.   
Hence the reason why only Mr Pat and Jarvis the butler really seemed to like him.    
  
Mr Pat of the smiling eyes and candy filled pockets was the first to die in the car.

_A madman in the middle of the road with a weapon, a bullet through the supposed bullet proof windscreen and their armoured Rolls Royce which should have had a fighting chance against a tank, had bounced and rolled like a badly hit pool ball before coming to a juddering stop buttressed between an overturned truck and the concrete wall at the entrance to the road tunnel._

_Tony knew his Mama was in the back seat, knew there was no sound from her, knew that she was hurt, but he couldn’t move to get to her, he couldn’t even turn his head to check. He was stuck like a fly in amber.  
The small part of him that he couldn’t switch off, the obsessive need for evidence to prove his theories, to prove that his designs worked, objectively considered the trajectory of the second bullet and knew without a shadow of a doubt that his Mama had been directly in its path. So he didn’t want to turn his head, he didn’t want to check on his Mama because he knew that she was gone, that his darling Mama was dead. That small part was relieved when he couldn’t physically move to confirm the theory._

_Tony couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t let rip the screams clogging his lungs. He didn’t know how much time had passed while he had been distracted by his frantic thoughts and fuzzy vision but that nightmare figure was stalking closer and closer. Why was he coming closer? He could take out any remaining witnesses or targets with his long range weapon. Why was he still coming towards Tony? Did he have to make physically sure that everyone was dead?_

_Howard stumbled into Tony’s line of sight, covered in blood, glass and metal shards dripping off his three piece suit like water from a steadily leaking faucet. Howard's hands were open, in the air, placating, pleading. Howard Stark the legend of Stark Industries and of the much vaunted search for Captain America was begging that monster._  
  
Tony was horrified, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t stop this. Sound came back with a rush, words, and jumbled phrases in Howard’s broken cigar hoarse voice.

_“Not the kid, spare him. Only a kid. I saved your life Barnes, you owe me. I saved him. I saved your Stevie too. Not Tony, Not Tony. Please God, I’m begging you Bucky. Not my boy”_

_Tony heard the words but they didn’t make sense. He watched as the monster took Howard’s throat in that freaky silver hand, watched as the monster turned his gaze towards him, unblinking cold silver eyes meeting and holding Tony’s appalled ones._

 No, No, No, he didn’t want to see it again. He didn’t want to relive it again. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

_Tony saw the monster’s lips move next to Howard’s ear, but the sound had gone again. Without taking his gaze away from Tony, the monster twisted his hand, hard. Howard’s body dropped to the floor._

_The scream finally erupted from Tony’s lungs. One word howled over and over in agony. “Dad”_

 

“Good Morning Sir, you are safe. It is 05:30 am on Tuesday 27th October 2012, the city temperature today will rise to 60 degrees. Some sun and later more cloud cover is predicted. You are safe. You are in your private quarters on Floor 93 of Stark Tower in Manhattan, New York. You are safe and alone in your suite. The coffee machine in the communal area has been activated if you feel the need for company as Dr Banner is currently enjoying one of his herbal teas there. Alternatively the coffee machine in your personal kitchen has also been activated if you feel adventurous enough to attempt to make it for yourself. Both machines will be ready to fill your mug in 4 minutes and 17 seconds Sir. You are safe” 

JARVIS soothing monologue pulled Tony from the lingering effects of his nightmare. God damn it he hadn’t had that one for quite some time. But he should have expected it. He should have known it was coming. The call from Wilson, letting him know they were close. That Rodgers was sure the next site would be the one. That they could be back in Stark Tower by the end of the month. By the end of the god damn month.  
  
His eyes were still wide and his heart racing from the flood of adrenaline. He could feel the sweat which had drenched his body and soaked through the soft linen sheets.

“Thank you Jay” he murmured with fond gratitude, words barely audible to a human ear but the AI had little difficulty recognising them. Tony knew he had only programmed JARVIS to tell him when and where he was upon waking. It helped to ease the disorientation when he woke up. Too many successful kidnapping attempts and damn it, too many alcohol fuelled one night stands, when he had woken up alone and afraid. Not knowing where he was, or who he was with.  
  
But the AI had adapted his own programming on such a simple thing to make sure Tony felt even more comfortable and even reassure him. He hadn’t missed the unsubtle message telling him he was safe as often as the AI could get it into the speech.

Tony appreciated it but right now he didn’t feel safe. He still felt like that traumatised terrified teenager who had watched as his world fell apart around him. No the words were wrong, fell apart made it sound like there was no-one to blame. And there was blame. There was a mountain of blame, there was a mountain of sin to apportion to that monster with a man’s face because he had ripped Tony’s world apart with his bare and metallic hands.  
   
He flung his arm across his face to block the dark and terrible memories from returning. But the arm didn’t block out the vision of Steve Rodgers earnest optimistic face when the guy had turned to him after the fall of SHIELD, after the destruction of Fury’s phase two defence system and the weakening of the World Defence Council and shown him the evidence.   
  
They had viewed the footage from the overpass, and the downed Heli carriers. For the first time in decades, Anthony Edward Stark laid his eyes once again on the monster who had murdered his parents. Tony finally found out the monster’s name.   
The Winter Soldier, ghost assassin, harbinger of doom, whispered legend for the Hell spawn Hydra. And apparently Captain America’s zombified best friend.   
  
As vivid and bold and utterly terrifying as he remembered, front and centre on the recordings. The terrifying figure from his nightmares, from the hell that had sent a seventeen year old rich kid genius into an alcoholic spiral he still had difficulty coming out of.

Then the mask had been pulled off and Tony Stark saw the face of the Winter Soldier. His restless brilliant mind came to a complete stop, he felt as if his body was no longer his own. He could not take his eyes away from that face. He knew that face, for an all too brief moment in time he had loved that face.

“Yasha” he hadn’t realised that he had whispered the damn name aloud in disbelief until Rodgers had turned to him with a raised eyebrow. Tony shrugged lightly, his mask firmly in place even if the Winter Soldier had lost his. “Sorry Capsicle, just thinking out loud” he offered with his trademark careless nonchalance.  
  
Anger flashed through those famous blue eyes like a lightning strike. “If I could have a moment of  your precious attention…” Rodgers began to snipe then seemed to collect himself and heaved a rueful sigh “Sorry that was uncalled for, let’s just watch this to the end”.   
Tony heard the words and must have made some appropriate response but his mind was running rampant as the betrayal shredded his skin until it reached his soul. Why did this keep on happening to him? Why did he trust these people when they were traitorous conniving bastards? A small part of his heart shrivelled in his chest. Tony Stark was never sure if he had ever been in love properly but Yasha had come pretty damn close.    
  
Thankfully no one else had heard his shameful whimper even if Sam and Bruce had heard Steve’s reaction. Tony had finally been pulled from the dark mire of his thoughts by the pleading hesitant voice of Captain America. Tony stared up into those wet blue eyes brimming with hope and determination.

“Stark, Tony. I don’t trust SHIELD any more, what’s left of it. I need your help to find him. It’s Buck, my Bucky. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. He, he survived the fall. They made him their asset, their assassin. I don’t know what they did to him. I will find out but I have to find him. Please Tony I let him fall once and I thought he’d died. Please help me find him”  

Stark the irreverent philanthropist, the playboy, the problem solver, the fly by the seat of his pants strategist had taken over from Tony the terrified traumatised teenager and betrayed lover. He had smiled when he sincerely promised Captain America all the resources and funds he would need.

Rodgers still didn’t know him very well even if they had saved the world together. He hadn’t yet learnt to see through the public mask and the _Man with a Plan_ allowed the tension in his shoulders to release, his smile to widen and gratitude to lighten his expression when Tony assured him of his complete cooperation in finding the Winter Soldier and bringing him in.    
  
Steve Rodgers, Captain America had thanked him for showing compassion to a fallen brother in arms with tears in his eyes.

Tony didn’t feel it appropriate to mention at that time that the only compassion he had for the Winter Soldier was the quick painless death he was personally going to give the man.   
  
As far as Tony was concerned, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes had died a hero in the Second World War. Yasha was only a figment of his own pathetic longings. He had been played by professionals. Fucking hell they couldn’t have picked someone more perfect for him. The bastard had dug his hydra fingers into his heart within hours and had made him… feel.  
  
With his genius he could work out permutations and cause and effect as if they were elementary grade math. His brilliance couldn’t see the point of that particular operation unless it was a long con designed to play with his mind and rock him off balance when they needed it the most. Tony tried to draw a calming breath in but the pain in his heart was worse now than after that travesty of an operation in the cave. He would focus, he would forget Yasha. Yasha hadn’t been real. The figure on the screen was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes aka the Winter Soldier back from the dead like his erstwhile playmate Steven Grant Rodgers, and the Winter Soldier was running the whole multiple personality freak show.

Tony was pretty sure that if the man made monster known as the Winter Soldier ever did recover his Barnes personality and memories, Bucky Barnes himself would wish that he had died at that point in time, rather than commit the murderous spree through the ensuing decades for Hydra, his and the Cap’s sworn enemies.   
Tony was going to accommodate that wish as soon as the Captain and his birdie sidekick brought the Soldier back to the Tower.

Maybe once he had destroyed that nightmare figure, it would also destroy his oldest and worst nightmare and he could lay his Mama, Howard and the fake image of his Yasha to rest.


	2. How it ends and begins

_Through the blood he can look_

_See the lives that he took_

_From a council of one_

_He'll decide when he's done with the innocent_

Steve Rodgers refused to look directly at the gaunt face of the man beside him in the elevator. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam watching the two of them. Sam had watched the two of them since they had finally tracked him down to the dingy small town in Eastern Europe that Steve still wasn’t sure had ever even been on a damn map. The guy had lived up to his name of Falcon by using the same disconcertingly focused and predatory gaze of that bird of prey and had not taken his eyes off Bucky.  
  
Bucky had already destroyed a Hydra facility a hundred miles away and had been heading for the next one two days travel out of the small town when Stark’s tracking had found him through some easily hackable traffic lights.

Steve and Sam had found him in a small lean too behind the local church, which had been used to store gardening equipment for the church grounds and the upkeep of the graveyard next door.

When they had captured him it had been a fight. Bucky hadn’t given in easy. He had made them work for their victory, but the one thing that had given Steve the encouragement to carry on was that he hadn’t fought them with the same murderous zeal as on the helicarriers. The broken ribs he had inflicted on Steve before Sam had finally hit him with the tranquilizer gun had healed in twenty four hours.  
Steve had been furious that Sam had resorted to the kind of tactics that Hydra used on the Winter Soldier but Sam had been unconcerned, merely pointed out that they had no choice when they couldn’t even get the guy to stand still long enough to listen.  
  
Sam had insisted that the Soldier needed to be contained in a safe place so that they could actually talk to the guy. They damn well weren’t going to be erasing his memories or sticking him in a freezer so Steve could just knock it off and deal with it because Sam did not have the same kind of super soldier healing as the pair of knuckleheads and he wouldn’t recover from broken ribs or a broken anything in the same way or as fast as they did.  
  
They had taken Bucky’s unconscious but strangely heavy body to an abandoned factory building in a rundown industrial area. Sam had asked bitterly if the super soldier serum meant that they had to eat freaking iron bars to compact all that weight when he had struggled to lift the man. It didn’t help when Steve had scooped him up with a quick bend to the knees and grinned as he mocked “On your left soldier”. The hand gesture Sam offered in response made Steve murmur wryly “Yeah, I get that reference”

It had nearly broken Steve’s heart to have to chain his best friend to the heavy machinery that had been left in situ but there was no damn way that he was losing the guy again when they had spent so long trying to find him and had nearly lost the damn fight in the bargain.

Days, days they had tried to talk to him. Tried to get any response on that impassive face. Studied his blank silver eyes for a reaction. When the Soldier did speak, it was in Russian as if he was deliberately distancing himself from anything that Captain America represented even the god damn language.

Steve’s Russian was not as strong as his other languages but he understood the single phrase “Let me go” well enough as it was the only thing Bucky said. God help him, Steve even got excited when Buck added the Russian for “Fuck off” to his repertoire. It was progress right, two phrases were better than one!

Steve ignored it. He had always been more stubborn than James Buchanan Barnes and if Bucky didn’t remember that well that was his problem. Bucky was going to get a front and center view of his best friend’s intractability.  
  
Steve sat down far enough away not to be a threat but more than close enough that Bucky couldn’t ignore him. Then Steve talked until even his super soldier serum enhanced vocal chords were tired. But damn, the star spangled man finally had a plan and he was sticking with it.  
  
He talked about everything. The first day they met when they were kids. The first time Bucky saw Steve have an asthma attack. The name, description, and age of each and every bully that Bucky had put on their backs when he had to finish the fights that Steve started. The first time Bucky brought a pay check home along with a proper box of chocolates for his Ma and then got a smack to the back of his head for making his Ma cry. Playing hopscotch with Bucky’s annoying little sisters.  
  
Nothing seemed to make an impression until he mentioned Mrs Barnes meat surprise stew. It was Bucky’s low voiced hoarse automatic mutter of “yeah because it was always a surprise if it had meat in it” that literally gave Steve the encouragement to continue. The surprise that lit the impassive Winter Soldier’s eyes was beautiful to behold and Steve’s grin lit up the warehouse like a flare. Sam grinned at the pair of them until Bucky’s face returned to its habitual blank expression and he returned to the same monotonous Russian phrases.  
  
Steve had continued to try to reassure Bucky until he literally had no voice left that he would be safe with him and the rest of the Avengers. It was only Sam’s low voiced comment that the guy wasn’t looking for safety but for forgiveness and Bucky’s instinctive flinch that finally clued Steve into what the problem was.

“Aw hell Bucky, it wasn’t you. Those bastards turned you into a weapon. They programmed you. You didn’t have a choice and you didn’t stand a chance Punk”. The sad words forced the Winter Soldier’s head up, until he was meeting the eyes of Captain America.  
Steve Rodgers sighed in relief as Bucky Barnes stared desperately out at him through the Winter Soldier’s eyes. They would be going home soon. 

 

“Sir, Captain Rodgers and Mr Wilson have entered the building in the company of an unknown man. There is a 98.9% probability that this is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, more recently known as the Winter Soldier”  
Tony blinked blearily and for a second he was side-tracked as he raised his head from the technical drawings he was manipulating in the air in front of him.  
He frowned “Jay, what the hell did you base the 1.1% differential on?” he asked with curiosity, managing to ignore the rising bitter triumph of the knowledge that the Winter Soldier was finally within his grasp, and that his plans were coming to fruition.

But before he could get a response Jarvis told him that Security were trying to contact him to ensure that the Captain’s companions were allowed entry.

Tony’s voice was immeasurably calm as he gave his permission.

“Is everything ready Jarvis?” he asked for the final time. “Of course Sir” the confirmation was prompt but disapproving “However Sir I must point out…” but Tony interrupted harshly “Your objections have been noted and overruled Jarvis, I don’t need your opinions or your approval, just make damn sure everything works the way I want it to”

“Very well Sir” the voice was once more emotionless but Tony almost winced at what the AI was not saying. It didn’t matter, this was going to happen whatever Jarvis’s views on the matter. 

Tony hadn’t realised how hard it would be to get the freaking Winter Soldier out of his self-imposed exile in Capsicle’s spare room. He had seen Rodgers twice in the three weeks since he and his merry band of misfits had arrived at Avengers tower. He had met the Falcon in the communal kitchen more often, the guy liked his food and the elusive Sergeant Barnes had been as visible as a snowball in hell.

Tony had mentioned the gym once to Wilson as a “helpful” suggestion for stress relief and left it at that. Tony’s lab time productivity increased by 25% with the corresponding reduction in eating and sleeping. He was trying to drown out the repetitive sounds of gun fire and screams in his head. 

It was two am in the morning of the fourth week when Jarvis silenced the pounding music in the lab. “As instructed Sir, I have to inform you that Sergeant Barnes is in the gym alone.” The AI’s voice was almost angry. There was a pointed pause and then the voice returned to the utterly emotionless tone he had been using with Tony for the last week or so. “ In line with my primary objective of providing protection from harm for Anthony Edward Stark, I have to inform you that your planned action will be detrimental to your physical, mental and emotional health”.

Tony flung out his arm violently and cleared the top of the worktable, tools and parts hitting the floor. “God damn it Jay” he roared, then bent his head rubbing his hands across his tired face as if his resolve was finally wavering. Then Jarvis saw him straighten stubbornly and watched in silence as Tony picked up the Iron man gauntlet that had lain prepared and waiting in the lab since the first call from Wilson to say that they had found the Winter Soldier.

Jarvis waited for a full second before he asked gently in his usual tone of voice “Sir please at least wear your full suit”

“Enough Jarvis, silence mode. Lock down the gym when I enter it, you will know when to open it again”

Tony fixed the gauntlet to his arm and moved with determination out of the lab.  
 

Sam Wilson was running like a mad man as he burst into the apartment shared by Steve and Bucky. The lights flickered on automatically as Steve came out of his bedroom, still in his sleeping shorts and t shirt, blinking wearily at his friend.

“For fuck sake Steve why don’t you ever answer your cell?” Sam spat breathlessly, then continued without waiting for a response “Where is Bucky?” Steve answered with bewilderment “He went to the Gym Sam, he couldn’t sleep, what’s the matter?”

The look on Sam’s face turned Steve’s blood to ice. “The Hydra files Natasha retrieved from the last mission” Sam began as if he didn’t know how to say the words then just blurted them out cold.

“The Winter Soldier assassinated Howard and Maria Stark when Tony was a kid, and Tony saw it go down”

The dawning horror Steve’s face made Sam flinch. Steve’s eyes were wide as he murmured in confusion” But he helped us to find Buck…” his voice trailed off, then he asked urgently “Jarvis, where is Tony I need to speak to him now”

There was a long enough pause for Steve and Sam to feel worried and then it seemed like the AI had come to some sort of decision as he replied calmly  “Sir is currently in the gym with Sergeant Barnes Captain Rodgers”

 

_Tony stared at the vodka in his glass morosely. He had agreed to this he reminded himself, he only had himself to blame. His 30 th birthday and he was spending it in the party capital of Universe, not. A nightclub in Tashkent Uzbekistan on a glad handing mission for Obie. The pulsating lights and pounding music made him knock back the vodka shot but he didn’t even feel the burn. He grabbed the bottle that he had made the waitress leave and poured himself another one._

_Four days, four days of his goddamn life that he was never going to get back schmoosing the army generals who now were opening up the market in the ex soviet block and wanted to buy Stark weapons. Obie had cackled with malicious glee, he had hated the soviets with a passion, when he told Tony “The final frontier my boy, Communists buying from the Capitalists, and you can’t get more capitalist than Stark Industries”_

_Stane’s wicked enthusiasm at getting one over on the Soviets had tickled Tony’s fancy and in a bout of stupidity caused by a rush of blood to his brain, he had agreed to head up the official Schmooze team. Obie could call it a trade mission but they all knew it would be a liberal application of charm, booze and hospitality to get signatures on contracts._

_Now Tony was bored, so bored and it was his god damn birthday. He wasn’t whining, he wasn’t no matter what Happy said, so he had decided it was time for some fun. Fun turned out to be a nightclub in downtown Tashkent._  
_Happy wasn’t happy but Tony couldn’t see what the problem was. Tony hadn’t gotten laid in two weeks, two whole weeks. If he had been working in his lab, he wouldn’t have cared because that would always be more important than sex, but being conned by Obie into this trade mission crap (he wasn’t being fair to the guy because Tony had offered but…birthday!) and being faced with the Generals every day with no damn relief in sight, then it was time for Tony and little Tony to do the horizontal or even vertical shuffle. He wasn’t fussy, except over his partner. At the moment little Tony’s preferred dance partner was blonde, busty and long legged._

 _Tony took another shot of vodka as his eyes scanned the crowded smoky dance floor. It was the leather that caught his attention at first. It clung like a second skin whilst the figure’s sinuous slow movements took pride of place on the dance floor. Despite the number of bodies, there seemed to be a space no one would breach around the illuminated figure._  
_Well fuck, one out of three wasn’t bad, those legs stretched forever up to the most glorious ass moulded by the same coloured leather. Tony drew in a deep breath as lust hit him like a punch in the gut.  
_  
_The guy was pure sex on long, long legs, he moved like he owned the world. His dark hair was tied back, and Christ was that sexy. He had full lips that were parted slightly as he moved in time to the music. Tony couldn’t see the colour of his eyes from that distance but they were light and framed by long eye lashes. Jesus Tony craved a taste of him. He could feel the drool pool in his mouth. Fuck, the guy hit all of his buttons, he could feel his suit trousers straining because he was as hard as rock._ _Tony almost couldn’t breathe because of the lust that was flooding his body. He had to have that guy._  
  
_He had only played with women in latter years since School because Obie didn’t want any damage to Stark Industries image. Even though they had finally entered the 21_ st Century the thought that the male owner of a world renowned macho weapons manufacturing company could have sex with another man was apparently untenable. Tony had mocked Obie mercilessly for it, but being a good little Stark he hadn’t upset the applecart that time. But only because Tony loved the human body in all its forms. He had been an equal opportunities slut in MIT and he had revelled it. But this glorious creature in front of him was his. He was going to have him tonight whilst he sang Happy Birthday to himself.

 _Tony’s eyes popped wide open as his involuntary moan broke the silence in the room. His hips jerked forwards before being held firmly and inexorably down. “Yasha” he whined, barely coherent as that delicious wicked mouth teased and tormented._  
_Tony could barely raise his head but he forced himself to look down into the gleaming silver eyes staring up at him, whilst those beautiful lips and evil tongue plunged him into bliss. The wicked joy in those beautiful eyes sent him finally over the edge and Yasha nursed him through it until he tried to pull away, his flesh trying to shrink becoming over sensitive._  
_Then the gorgeous, glorious creature moved up Tony’s utterly destroyed prone body with the deadly grace of a panther, sucking, licking, making delicious noises through the tantalising sweet pain of the bites he left on Tony’s torso._

_Tony tried to clutch at those leather clad arms but one gloved hand took both of his bare hands captive. “Niet Anton, no touching, you agreed” the husky hoarse voice triggered a full body shudder and Tony lay there obediently as the words were whispered into his ear._

_“I will devour you Anton, I will drive you insane with pleasure but you will obey me moy malchik. I told you what was going to happen moy Anton. My pleasure will cause your pleasure. You will do what I tell you when I tell you. There is no need to rush. You received pleasure from removing your clothes slowly for my pleasure didn’t you malchik, you received pleasure from touching yourself slowly for my pleasure didn’t you malchik and you will receive pleasure from taking me slowly into your body for my pleasure moy malchik” Tony’s body burned, he felt feverish as he listened helplessly to that sultry voice, his pounding heart forcing blood downwards until he was starting to harden again._

_The bastard laughed as he felt Tony stir against him. “You are not allowed to touch me malchik and I will not remove my clothes, because it pleases me to do so and it will cause you pleasure to be so at my mercy”_

_The word was out of Tony’s mouth before he could stop himself “please Yasha” he begged shamelessly as he rubbed himself against the leather clad body._

_“Naughty malchik” Yasha growled before his sinful mouth took control of Tony’s once more, muffling the strange musical noises that sounded suspiciously like “Happy Birthday to me”_

  

Loud pounding on the reinforced hulk proof windows to the gym interrupted the noise of the latest repulsor blast, and Tony dropped his arm but not his gaze from the battered body in front of him. Jarvis kindly relayed the shouted words from outside the gym into the sudden silence.

“Tony for the love of God, this is Bucky not the Winter Soldier, you are murdering Bucky.” Steve’s voice was desperate as he took in the details of the scene in horror.

Sam had been a few seconds behind him because he had called the rest of the Avengers. If Steve couldn’t get into that room by himself, he would need the other heavy hitters like Thor and Banner. Sam skidded to a halt next to Steve and what he saw made him sick to his stomach.

 To everyone’s surprise, it wasn’t Tony who responded first. Bucky’s whispered words were amplified by the AI so that everyone could hear it.

“Stevie stop it, it’s okay. I deserve it, if it’s not him, it will be someone else and I took his parents from him. It’s okay punk, really it is. I can’t live with what I’ve done. This way we both get some peace”. There was a sad accepting smile on the bloodied face before he turned his head back to the man with the repulsor gauntlets. Silver eyes stared up into brown.  
“You have to finish it moy malchik, I won’t be able to keep him at bay much longer and the Winter Soldier can take you. He will kill you Anton”

Tears streamed down Steve’s face as he sank to his knees. Blood from hands he had pounded until they looked like minced meat left smear trails on the window. “Please Tony, please don’t kill my brother please. He’s the only one I have left. Please don’t Tony please” he begged, his voice so raw he could only speak in a whisper. But Jarvis ensured that Tony heard every word.

Tony dropped his arm in realisation “You haven’t tried to fight back” he spat. The whirlpool of rage, grief, shame and pity spinning his brain like a top. Steve was the one begging and pleading, not Barnes, not the Winter Soldier. Not once had the guy made a murmur, just taken each fucking blast and smack from the gauntlet without fighting back. Tony knew the guy had to be in pain because he made sure that he was causing it. He had thought he could just take him out with one blast. Put them both out of their misery but once he had seen the guy in the flesh, rage and the vicious need to cause pain overcame that first more honourable intention.  
  
He wanted the bastard to hurt the way he was hurting, the fucker had taken away everything, his mother, his father, his fucking heart way before the terrorists in the cave.  Images of Yasha, the Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes swirled in his head like a crazy kaleidoscope.  
The fucker wanted the easy way out did he? Christ on a crutch even Tony knew how messed up he was when he resented the bastard for trying to take the easy option especially when it would be over. A nice quick death and no more having to deal with what he had done. What he had done to Tony.

“Been forced to do Tony” a voice suspiciously like his Mama’s rang in his head. She had always been the compassionate one in the family. Fuck he was going as insane as the Winter Soldier.

The hammer flew through the window as if it wasn’t there, glass shattering into glittering pieces and Thor in all his glory walked past the debris into the gym. Steve and Sam stumbled in behind him.

“Anthony the Winter Soldier killed your parents this is not the Winter Soldier” Thor’s voice was kind but inflexible. Tony refused to turn his back on the prone figure, his arm was still raised menacingly towards Bucky because those bastards weren’t going to stop this. He snarled “Don’t you dare judge me Point Break he killed my parents and he was going to kill me”

Tony’s enraged words seemed to have as much impression on the God as rain on his cape. Thor’s gaze was heavy with the weight of his long years and his voice rang with impressive gravitas.

“But Anthony, one of my duties as a Prince of Asgard is that of an impartial Judge. I must judge the truth that lies beneath Anger and Pain. This man has been punished even before he committed any crimes for over seventy years. He was made Out Law which in Asgardian and your Old Norse law means he was banished from any family or friends, he had no recourse to justice, and he could be tortured or killed with no mercy and with no hope of assistance. Every man’s back was turned to him and he had no succour, comfort, hearth nor home. Even his memories were denied him. Has he not already been punished for the crimes he was forced to commit? Would you punish Barton for his actions whilst under the power of my brother my friend?”

Thor’s voice had softened with so much understanding that Tony felt his eyes prickle with the urge to weep.  
Bucky’s words came back to him. Malchik, he had called him Malchik, the same name Yasha had given him. Moy Malchik, my boy. Yasha’s boy. Yasha was in there too. He was hurting Yasha. He had fallen in love with Yasha in the short time they had spent together.  
His thoughts were so muddled that he almost missed Thor’s next words

“Thus I degree that you will not take his life Anthony Son of Stark. For the deaths of your mother and your father, for the crimes against you the one known as the Winter Soldier must pay Wergild. The Winter Soldier will be in your service for the rest of his days. He is yours to do with as you will except to maim or execute.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open “What the hell Thor?” he spluttered. Steve growled “Thor you can’t make him a slave, he’s finally free from Hydra” For once the true alien nature of the man nearly overwhelmed them all.  
  
But the Asgardian hadn’t finished, he ignored their objections he turned his frowning countenance away from the silent prone man with a metal arm and onto the man with the red and gold gauntlet. He raised a finger and pointed to Tony.  

“Anthony Son of Stark for your betrayal of the sacred honour of hospitality and of your brother in Arms, the Captain, you too will pay wergild.  For the Captain his greatest wish is to have his fallen brother James Buchanan Barnes returned to him hale and healthy. This will be your responsibility.”

There was a heavy pressure in the air after Thor’s words until he smacked his hammer down like a gavel on the unsuspecting table next to him. The noise of the blow seemed to peal like a great bell and the humans in the destroyed room felt it resonate in their very bones.

Then Thor threw back his head and roared, his voice thundering through the room. 

  
 “All here bear witness. This is the true judgement of Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard, God of Thunder and Lightning and none shall interfere”.


End file.
